


Find a place that keeps you safe

by hyphenation



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Canon Compliant, Catholicism, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Hand Jobs, I hate that term but I guess that's what this is, Intimacy, M/M, Oral Sex, POV Mac, Seduction, season 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-14 13:35:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16493552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyphenation/pseuds/hyphenation
Summary: Dennis has been treating Mac like shit ever since he came back. When he one night lays his head in his lap as they’re watching TV, Mac understandably does not know what to do. Things turn even more confusing when it becomes a habit.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is thought to be set sometime after The Gang Gets New Wheels.

Somehow Charlie had managed to make the entire gang do Charlie Work when all the toilets in the bar had overflowed at the same time. It was a disgusting mess, and they’d been dealing with the ramifications all day. They hadn't even bothered keeping the bar open after they were done, and that's how Mac and Dennis had ended up back at the apartment at 8 pm on a Wednesday evening. Usually, they'd stay at the bar at least until midnight, but they were exhausted after all the physical labour Charlie had put them through. Mac was spent, and the first thing he had done when they'd gotten past the front door, was throw himself on the couch.

  

"Jesus Christ, I'm dead. Can we just like watch some TV and relax now? I don't even feel like having a beer, I just need to wind down." That said a lot about his current state – Mac never said no to beer.

 

"Well, I'mma have one, at least. You're not even gonna eat?" Dennis asked from the kitchen.

 

"Nah."

 

"That's a first," Mac heard him chuckle slightly under his breath.

 

"I heard that." He would let Dennis get away with his bitchiness this time, he was too tired to get into an argument about how he always had to make sarcastic remarks about his body. Besides, Mac was ripped now, for real. Dennis was just jealous.

 

"Hey, scoot over. Give me some room, you're occupying the entire couch, man!" Dennis said, annoyed.

 

Mac complied half-heartedly. He put his feet on the floor so that he was half-sitting, half-laying, with his head resting on the armrest. He offered Dennis the remaining space. It was only a third of the couch, but Dennis finally accepted it with a grunt.

 

"What are we watching?" he asked as he sat down and placed an arm on Mac's knee.

 

"Uhm, I think it's something about surviving in the wild or some shit." Mac had tuned out, he wasn't exactly sure what channel he'd even put on. His only intention had been to hang out with Dennis for a while, and then go to bed and sleep for at least 10 hours. But his lids were already heavy, and he couldn't pay attention to anything but Dennis’ arm on his leg. The only reason Dennis had put it there was the fact that Mac had left him such little room - he realized that. There was no other comfortable position for his arm to be in. But these days, Mac cherished every friendly (or even just neutral) gesture Dennis made towards him. It was so rare - all Dennis ever talked about now was how fat, ugly and annoying Mac was. It made him desperate for any word, glance or touch that wasn't filled with disdain.

 

"You're not even gonna watch it? It's Bear Grylls, I think the guy's gonna drink his own piss. Jesus," Mac heard from behind closed lids.

 

"I'm listening, Dude. Don't have to watch the screen. I'm just tired, okay?"

 

"Yeah... sure."

 

Mac heard a bottle being placed onto the coffee table, and then something landed in his lap. When he immediately opened his eyes, he was met with the sight of Dennis' head resting on top of his thighs. _What in the actual fuck?_

 

"If you're gonna lay down, I want to lay down, too."

 

Dennis was laying on his side, facing the TV. He was completely still, paying close attention to whatever was going on on the screen, and all Mac could do was stare at him. God, he looked so beautiful like this. Peaceful, almost. The exact opposite of what Mac was feeling. He didn’t know what to do. Any second now, Dennis would say something mean and pull away from him, surely he would.

 

When several minutes had passed, and Dennis still hadn’t moved, Mac began to enjoy this new position he had put them in. A warm feeling spread all throughout his body. He wanted to smile, to say something. Wanted to reach down and touch Dennis' hair. Wrap his fingers in it and feel how soft it was. Wanted to caress Dennis' cheek. But he knew that if he did any such thing, the moment would end, and Dennis would flip out on him. So, he kept his hands to himself and tried to focus on the TV, but it was too difficult. Every 5 seconds he glanced down at the side and back of Dennis' head, in order to be aware of exactly what was going on at any time. His eyes were fixed on the screen, didn't even move. Didn't seem to notice Mac's repeated staring. All Mac could do, was focus on Dennis’ calm breaths – in and out. Rhythmic. Gathered. The sound was hypnotizing.

 

What was he thinking? Why had he done this? Just a couple of weeks earlier he had told Mac to stop touching him, told him that he didn't want any of that. But now he managed to think that putting his face three inches away from his dick, was a good idea?

 

What was he supposed to do? There was no way he could fall asleep like this, Dennis had made sure of that. Mac's mind was desperately trying to make sense of the situation, and when it couldn’t, it proceeded to imagine all kinds of scenarios unfolding from where they were. Good ones, bad ones, nice ones… sexual ones. After a while, he could feel the warmth gather in the pit of his stomach. Why was God punishing him like this? They had been laying there for 10 minutes, and _now_ he decided to make Mac hard? God was punishing him for the sexual thoughts, _of course that’s what it was_. Dennis’ head wasn’t too close to his crotch, so maybe he would be able to get away with it unnoticed? He could feel himself growing, and the realization made him even harder. He didn’t want to be hard, but he also absolutely did. He still wasn’t touching Dennis though, thankfully. Dennis would freak out if he suddenly felt a huge boner in the back of his neck – Mac could picture the disgust in his face. Could hear the venom in his voice. But it hadn’t happened yet. Maybe God was only dicking around with him today – literally.

 

In that moment, Dennis readjusted himself in Mac’s lap. _Fuck!_ The back of his head was absolutely touching Mac’s erection, now. No doubt. What on earth should he do? Get up and excuse himself to the bathroom? No, Dennis would see right through that, especially when he knew that Mac was hard. He was panicked, but didn’t say a word. Didn’t let out a sound or move at all.

 

Why wasn’t Dennis yelling at him already? Why hadn’t he flown off of the couch, repulsed? He hadn’t even said anything, hadn’t done anything to allude to the fact that Mac’s fully hard cock was digging into the back of his head. Because it obviously was – Dennis had to feel it.

  

All Mac wanted to do was to reach down and touch himself. He was aching all over – desperate for the shallowest of friction. Never had he been this disciplined in his entire life. He always gave into his urges – if he felt like riding the Ass Pounder 4000 for three hours, he would. If he wanted to get a sex doll in the image of his best friend, he would. And he did, he always let the sins of the flesh overtake him. But now he couldn’t, and it was really fucking uncomfortable.

 

After another 5 minutes of excruciating discomfort and arousal, Dennis moved again, this time just a little, but his head brushed further up against Mac. What the fuck was going on, here? Dennis was pretending not to notice the obvious elephant in the room, but he had no problem with moving against it?! It was almost as if he was saying “I can feel it, you know”, but with his body. Maybe this was it? Maybe Dennis was finally reciprocating to all of Mac’s failed advances over the years. What if the next thing he was going to do, was turn around and take him in his hand? Or better yet, his mouth? Mac felt his cock twitch at the image in his head, and Dennis must have felt it too. But he didn’t do anything more. Didn’t turn around, didn’t say anything.

 

 

Another 10 minutes of extreme arousal. The show finally ended. Dennis picked up the remote and turned the TV off, before he got up from Mac’s lap, and the couch itself. “I’m gonna go to bed now. Night.”

 

“Uh, yeah. Night”

 

Once in the shower, Mac could finally rid himself of the throbbing mix of pain and excitement, and came harder than he had since the first time he fucked the sex doll.

 

…

 

Two days later, Mac found himself in the same surreal situation he’d been fantasizing about ever since it first occurred. It was midday, him and Dennis had just eaten breakfast on the couch, and suddenly Dennis’ head was in his lap again. This time, he wasn’t as startled, nor as excited as he had been before, but it still filled him with joy and nervousness. A shitty daytime talk show played in the background on low volume, but he didn’t think any of them cared about it. All he cared about, was the idiot with his head in his lap. He couldn’t understand why he was doing this, or why he pretended like this was normal for them. Sure, maybe five years ago this would have been more likely to happen, but even then it would have been weird.

  

“Um, can you run your hands through my hair?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Y’know, like, pet it. It just got the urge for someone to do it, it feels nice.”

 

“Yeah, sure.”

 

Mac didn’t hesitate. Ever since they were teenagers, he’d always been itching to touch those beautiful curls. Throughout the years, Dennis had gone through several haircuts, and every time he cut it short, Mac wanted to yell at him. Tell him how stunning he looked with longer hair. Instead, he buried it all into the back of his mind and prayed to Jesus that he would just shave it all off instead. Thankfully, he never did, and now his hair was longer than it had been in years.

 

Mac gently ran his fingers through it. The initial touch was met with a sigh of content from Dennis, and it felt like something melted inside Mac. Giving people pleasure wasn’t anything he had ever cared much for, but this was different. And it was such an innocent concept, he was just stroking his hair. It was newly washed and smelled faintly of cherries, mixed with a muskier scent he couldn’t put his finger on. He loved that smell, Dennis had been using the same shampoo for years. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed it until Dennis had returned to Philadelphia. He thanked the lord for bringing it back, for bringing him back, even though he was a bastard at times.

 

Mac’s fingers moved from exclusively touching Dennis’ hair, to lightly grazing his scalp. He murmured in response, clearly liking whatever Mac was doing. Cause Mac didn’t at all know what he was actually doing. All he was basing it off of, was how Carmen sometimes had stroked his hair right after he had gotten out of the shower. It always felt nice when she did that, but he had never been fully comfortable when he was with her, so he didn’t allow himself to enjoy it as much as he should have. But judging from the little sighs, murmurs and almost inaudible whimpers escaping from Dennis’ mouth, _he_ however was enjoying this very much. When Mac started briefly ghosting his fingers in the back of Dennis’ neck, Dennis spoke again;

  

“Mmm, that feels really good, Mac.”

 

“Yeah, really? I wasn’t sure how to do this. I mean, I’ve never done this before and you’re very particular with… like, everything. Just tell me if I’m doing something wrong.”

 

“Nah, you’re doing everything right,” Dennis said lazily. “I love it, ungh.”

  

Whatever was going on with Dennis, Mac didn’t care anymore. Hearing those words from him felt like how he imagined heroin must feel to an addict going through withdrawal. All he wanted was more – for Dennis to tell him how good he was, how much he loved his touch, how it made him feel good. That _he_ needed more. So he continued twirling his curls around his fingers, gently massaging his scalp and ghosting his fingers over the back of his neck. When he hadn’t heard any sounds of affirmation in a while, on impulse he traced his ear with his index finger, before lightly squeezing his earlobe. Dennis moaned in response. Not very loud, but loud enough to make it evident that the gesture had been received with pleasure. The sound gave Mac goose bumps, and he soon became aware of his erection. Of course this was going to happen – what did he expect? At least this time he didn’t have any hopes of what it could turn into. Well, that was a lie, he always hoped. That was one of his most pathetic traits – no matter how bleak the precedent, he always kept on hoping for the unprecedented. Hoped his father would reach out to him and love him. Hoped he would get a black belt in karate. Hoped Dennis would somehow, one day, feel the way he did. But at least now, in that moment on the couch, he had intentionally pushed his hope as far back as he could. As long as Dennis kept letting him know how good he was, that was all he needed. He almost found pleasure in the pain of the tight restriction of his pants, because the reason why they were restrictive in the first place, was so rewarding. As if in a trance, he kept on caressing Dennis’ hair through the entirety of the talk show runtime, and he didn’t even stop when it ended, either.

 

“Mmm, thank you,” Dennis turned to face Mac. The back of his head was resting in his lap now, and for the first time in almost an hour, their eyes met. “That was really nice, didn’t think you’d be that good.”

 

“Um, yeah. No problem,” Mac smiled, self-consciously. The fact that Dennis not only could _feel_ , but now also _see_ , how hard he was, made him extremely uncomfortable. But at the same time, he was in a state of bliss. He loved seeing Dennis so relaxed, so happy. Knowing that he was the reason for it overshadowed any discomfort or anxiety about the situation between his thighs. Maybe that wasn’t rational, but then again Mac never had been the most rational of people.

 

Dennis smiled at him for a moment, before he rose from the couch and walked towards the bathroom.

 

“You ready to go, soon? Let’s hope the toilets aren’t gonna overflow with shit again today, hah.”

  

Oh, yeah. It was still early and they had a job to go to. Mac had entirely forgotten about that. He blinked a couple of times, and before he could respond, Dennis said; “I’ll let you get dressed and stuff, I’m just gonna freshen up a bit and put on a light base before we leave”. He shut the bathroom door behind him, leaving Mac to his pressing matter.

 

He ran into his room and jacked off frantically, desperate to come before Dennis would notice how long he took to get dressed. Of course, he knew that Dennis was aware of exactly what he was doing, he was just being nice about pretending he didn’t.

 

None of them spoke on the drive to the bar, but the rest of the day was like any other.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first fic from Mac's perspective! Loved writing it, I needed something to keep me sane in these dark Dennis-less times. Please feel free to comment or leave behind kudos, I love hearing from you guys.
> 
> Inspired by my own ridiculous life. I’ve had quite a few affectionate and cuddly friends throughout the years who always want to be particularly touchy when we watch tv/films (even at the goddamned cinema). It never turned into anything more than that, though. I know, sad day for me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of months later.

It had become a habit. Every time they watched a movie or a show, somehow Dennis would make Mac pet his hair. Most of the time he wouldn’t lay in his lap, but even so, Mac still loved it. Sometimes, when they were sitting by each other’s side, Dennis would nonchalantly reach for Mac’s hand and place it at the nape of his neck. He wouldn’t say anything, though, or even look at him, but still Mac would oblige. When he did the same to Dennis, and placed _his_ hand in his own hair, one of two things would happen. The first, most frequent thing, was that Dennis would complain about how much product was in Mac’s hair, and therefore refuse. Second was, when Mac’s hair hadn’t been styled yet, Dennis would look at him with a disgruntled expression, before ultimately accepting the request. Needless to say, Mac almost stopped styling his hair after a while, to Dennis’ disappointment.

 

Because it had become such a habit, thankfully Mac wouldn’t get hard as often anymore. But when he did, Dennis would ultimately always give him an opportunity to sneak off into his room and take care of it after a while.

 

The routine was quite absurd – Dennis would make Mac do something to him that he knew turned him on, ignore how obvious his arousal was, and then allow him to masturbate in private. Essentially, he was intentionally making Mac masturbate to the thought of him, all the while pretending to be oblivious about it. And then he would do it again, and again, and again. And Mac never got tired of it. Sometimes, when Dennis laid in Mac’s lap and he hadn’t gotten hard yet from playing with his hair, he suspected that Dennis intentionally would increase the volume of his affirmative verbalisations. He’d let out louder whimpers, give Mac more compliments. Say his name at the end of every sentence. Whether Dennis did so to purposefully make him horny, he couldn’t definitely say, but nonetheless, it worked. Every goddamned time Dennis would mutter _“ugh, that feels so good, Mac”_ , it was as if he’d spoken directly to his dick. If it wasn’t for the fact that it had happened so many times now, Mac would be embarrassed about how pathetic he was. But as long as Dennis chose to utter those words instead of ones of contempt, he was happy. He had been tempted a couple of times to refuse Dennis’ requests, to show him that he couldn’t just have him whenever _he_ liked, but ultimately, he’d always give in. It did bother him that they never talked about it, but he let it slide. This was just the way Dennis was, he told himself, it could have been a lot worse. Dennis could have moved out, or worse, never returned from North Dakota in the first place. Instead, now they were closer than they had been in years.

 

It was Sunday evening. Mac was walking up the stairs to their apartment. Dennis had the night off, so he had had to walk all the way home. He was looking forward to going to sleep, but when he opened the door, he was met by loud noise from the TV.

 

“Eyooo, what up? Come join me, you have to check this shit out!” Dennis was sitting on the couch, a beer in hand, and looked mildly energetic for it being so late on a Sunday of all days.

 

“Hey, yeah okay, sure. I’ll be right there.” No matter how tempting going to bed sounded, he couldn’t refuse him. He kicked off his boots, took off his jacket and went to the fridge for a beer, before he sat down next to Dennis.

 

“Now, isn’t this quite a sight. I mean, bam.. boom.. boom,” Dennis said as he gestured to the big-breasted weather anchor on the screen in front of them.

 

“Oh… yeah, cool… I thought you were gonna show me some badass wrestling shit or something, though. This is boring, can we switch channels?”

  
  
“Dude, let a man enjoy the fruits of the earth for a second, will you?” Dennis responded, faux disappointment in his voice. “Besides, I don’t think there are any beefcake weather dudes out there.”

 

Mac didn’t care for having an argument about weather anchors, so he just rolled with whatever Dennis was on about. “Nah, you’re probably right. But the weather is for nerds anyways, so can we just like turn on some NCIS or whatever? That shit’s awesome.”

 

“NCIS, that’s some prime TV, Mac. Good choice! You can learn a lot from shows like that, you know. They always catch the bad guys in the most shocking ways. You can never be too careful, that’s for sure. Fingerprints are a bitch…”

  
  
Mac decided to ignore how creepy Dennis sounded, and instead snatched the remote out from his hands. He wasn’t happy about it, but settled when Mac found the channel that aired NCIS reruns.

 

After watching for ten minutes, they were back into their routine again. Dennis’ head was resting in Mac’s lap, this time a bit further in than normal. They were both paying attention to the story – it was actually set in Philly for once – and by now Mac had gotten so used to their little dance that it didn’t excite him in the same way anymore. He was stroking Dennis’ hair in a robotic rhythm, almost as if his hands were on auto pilot. He didn’t do it intentionally, so when Dennis turned his head towards him with a displeased expression on his face, he was taken by surprise.

 

“You’re shit at this.”

 

“Sorry, Dennis. It’s just the plot – I mean, they’re in Philly, that’s so awesome!”

 

“Jesus Christ, you’re such a doofus sometimes. Now, if you can _please_ do it properly, thank you very much.”

  
  
He wanted him to do it properly? He’d show him proper. He gave Dennis a fake smile and returned to his previous occupation, now with a renewed fervour. Dennis responded with a content sight and a _“that’s more like it.”_

 

Mac went slow. Traced his spread-out fingers from the nape of Dennis’ neck, until he reached the top of his head. Twirled his beautiful hair around his fingers, stroked the side of his neck. A little piece inside of him wanted to wrap his hands around it and squeeze, just for a moment. Just to see how Dennis would react. He’d probably like it, though, judging from his fondness of “being bound”. So Mac didn’t. Instead, he moved to Dennis’ ear. He wanted to replace his fingers with his teeth, but that would be taking things too far, he knew that. That would ruin everything. Dennis let out a whimper, then a low moan when he gently scratched at the ridge. He was going to show him just how good he could be. If he had been braver, he would have reached down and pinched his nipple. He knew how much he loved that, but it would make everything more explicit than it already was. Dennis had made him rub his nipples numerous of times before, but never in a setting quite like this one. So he let the thought go, and exclusively focused on his hair instead. After a couple of minutes, he felt Dennis’ head shift in his lap. He wasn’t gonna let it get to him, though. Wasn’t gonna let him have the satisfaction of knowing how much it turned him on. He focused his eyes on the screen and thought about vaginas and Dee. It worked.

 

“Ah, your hands feel good, baby.”

 

 _Fuck_ , Dennis never called him baby when they sat like this. Sure, he’d use the pet name all the time, but not when they were this close. Mac hesitantly answered; “Oh… that’s nice. I guess.” He had to start picturing dead animal carcases and Margaret McPoyle.

  
  
“Yeah, _real_ nice. Stoke my neck, will you?” Dennis said softly.

  
  
Mac complied. It was just a matter of time now before he would turn noticeably hard, but he was proud of himself for his perseverance up to that point. Dennis was obviously trying to excite him, but Mac didn’t understand why. Why did he always have to make himself the object of his desire? He was a huge attention whore, sure, but that didn’t fully explain the lengths to which he was willing to go, to make Mac want him. Mac snapped out of his train of thought, and switched his focus back to the image of Margaret McPoyle’s unibrow.

 

Suddenly, he felt Dennis turn in his lap. He looked down and met his eyes. He looked serious, but didn’t say anything. Neither did Mac. Then, Dennis turned his face so that he was directly facing Mac’s crotch. His eyes shifted to look up at him, and then down again.

 

“Why aren’t you hard?” he asked in a deep voice, accusatorily.

 

“What?”

 

“You heard what I said.”

  
  
“I uh… do you want me to?”

  
  
“That’s not what this is about. Why aren’t you hard, Mac?”

 

“I don’t wan-“

 

“Oh, just shut up,” Dennis interjected, simultaneously reaching for the hem of Mac’s trousers. He froze, unable to comprehend what was going on. Was Dennis actually doing what he thought he was? Any mental images of dead animals, Dee or Margaret McPoyle, were long gone. Replacing them was the sight of Dennis running his hands over his lower abdomen. He reached down to cup what was now Mac’s growing erection through the fabric. The position he was laying in was awkward, and he must have realized as much himself, because it didn’t take long before he got up from the couch, and placed himself on the floor on his knees between Mac’s legs. He looked up at him again, impatience in his eyes.

 

“Finally _,”_ he muttered as he rubbed Mac’s half-hard cock through his jeans.

 

Once again, Dennis had made Mac speechless. Wide-eyed, all he could do was stare at him. It was _actually_ happening – what he had pictured that first night months ago when they’d come home from unclogging the Paddy’s toilets all day, and so many more times before that.

 

Dennis unzipped Mac’s jeans and grabbed the outline of his erection through his white boxers. He looked up again, and said in a low, demanding voice; “I want your cock to get _so_ hard, it’s painful.”

 

Jesus Christ, he was so fucking hot like this – demanding and in charge. Not in an aggressive way. He was being assertive about pleasuring _Mac_ , not himself. That’s what made it so good.

 

Mac didn’t want him to ever break their eye-contact, but when he ultimately did, he replaced Mac’s eyes with his crotch, which was almost as good. Mac watched him through half-lidded eyes move his face towards the object of his gaze. When he reached the destination, he wrapped his arms around Mac’s upper hips, and gently pressed his right cheek against his cock. It was an embrace, and Mac had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life. Intimate, hot, sensitive, gentle – it was everything at once. Dennis’ eyes were closed, his mouth half-open, and Mac could feel his breath on his skin. He looked peaceful, like he’d just done something he had considered doing for a long time. He looked content – the realization made Mac inexplicably happy.

 

“Can you do that, Mac? Hmm? I know how big you can get when you’re _fully, painfully_ hard.” He looked up as he uttered the last three words. His voice was soft like silk, yet deep and slow.

 

“As long as you don’t stop, I’ll do anything for you, Dennis. I’ll do… I’ll… goddamn that feels amazing-“

 

Dennis had put his mouth to his boxer-covered cock. It was warm, and the sight more than anything else was what made Mac enjoy it as much as he did. Desperate for more, he reached down to try and fully undress, but Dennis grabbed his wrists before he could do anything.

 

“No, no. That’s not gonna work for me. All in due time, Mac,” he asserted from between his legs. “However, get rid of that shirt.”

 

Mac immediately ripped it off and threw it behind him. Dennis grinned, before he continued lazily sucking at his covered, now completely hard cock. Finally, he reached down into the boxers, and a wave of electricity ran through Mac’s body. Dennis was actually holding his cock in his hand – skin to skin, no layer of fabric in between. His grip was firm, his thumb running over the slit where pre-come had started leaking. To Mac, it looked like Dennis was contemplating something – his eyes were fixed on his erection, his hand had paused. What was he thinking? A couple of seconds went by, and then Dennis began slowly stroking him.

 

“Mmm, how’s that feel, baby?”

  
  
“Incredible.”

 

“Who knew you could look _this good_ in my hand. Desperate for it. For _me._ Cause you are, aren’t you?”

  
  
It wasn’t a question, Mac realised.

 

“I’m desperate for you, Dennis. I am, I truly am-“

  
  
“Tell me more, baby boy” he said as he replaced his hand with his mouth.

 

How was he this lucky? Had God finally answered his prayers? He’d dreamt about Dennis’ lips since they were both in high school, and now so many years later he got to finally know what they felt like. His failed kisses throughout the years didn’t count, he had never truly known them until now. Eager, caring, talented, tender.

 

“Dennis, you feel amazing. God, no-one’s ever made me feel this good before,” Mac continued in a breathy voice. It was corny and a cliché, but it was true. “And you look so beautiful like this, _fuck_.”

 

Dennis was kissing the head, sucking at it gently with wet, plump lips. _How was he so good at this?_ Mac shifted his focus to the sight before him. Drank it all in; how Dennis’ left hand was resting on his thigh, the other one holding the base of his cock; how beautiful his lips were like that, red and glossy with spit and pre-come; how his eyes alternated between being closed and staring directly up into Mac’s. The sounds too, were very rewarding - the sloppy smacks his kisses produced, the sounds of pleasure he released into the air around him. Because he did seem to be enjoying himself too – the whimpers, moans and sighs Mac had gotten used to hearing during their TV/cuddling sessions, were now fully present during this activity, also.

 

Then Dennis started licking long, slow strokes from the base up to the head, before he wrapped his mouth around it fully, and worked his way down completely. In the beginning, he struggled a bit with the length, but he soon eased into it. The feeling he was conjuring in Mac overwhelmed him, and the sounds escaping him as a result, made it clear just how much he was enjoying Dennis. Seeing him move like that – bobbing up and down on him with ease – was better than any fantasy he’d ever had about him.

 

“Oh my God, I think I’m gonna blow my load soon.”

 

Dennis smiled around him, and purposefully moaned. The vibrations made it even harder to attempt at delaying his orgasm.

 

“Dennis, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna-“ he whimpered, warning him of what was about to happen. But Dennis payed no mind to the warning, and kept his mouth tight around the midsection of his shaft.

 

Mac came in a series of prolonged thrusts – all of it into Dennis’ mouth. Dennis continued slowly moving his head up and down after he was done, and some of the come started spilling out from his mouth. It was so dirty, but Mac loved watching him like that. When his lips reached the head, he let go of it, and Mac’s cock fell right onto his stomach with a slap. Dennis looked up into Mac’s eyes, and made a point out of swallowing, before he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and bit his lower lip. Never had Mac felt so small in his life – not in the negative sense of the word, but something about how Dennis had known exactly what to do, and how deliberate he’d been, somehow made everything so much more intense. He couldn’t explain it. Watching him swallow was the ultimate climax – it felt so intimate. A part of him knew that it was a performance, but he didn’t care. Not now, not when the man he’d been in love with for more than half of his life had given him something he’d almost given up on. In a way, he’d never felt more loved. It was irrational - sex had nothing to do with love for Dennis – but Mac chose to interpret his actions in the best way he could. He always had, with everyone he loved. If he didn’t, he would have to face reality – somewhat of a foreign concept for him.

 

So for now, he chose to feel loved.

 

They were staring at each-other. Dennis was still on his knees, hand placed on each of Mac’s thighs. None of them said anything. Not because Mac didn’t want to – he wanted to say so much. He just couldn’t find the words at first. His body wanted to bend down and kiss him, but his mind resisted.

 

“Wow, that was… insane. You’re like really good at that stuff, man. You want me to…?” he finally said, alluding to the fact that he probably should be repaying the favour, but Dennis’ expression was enough of an answer to make him stop before finishing the sentence.

 

“Nah, man, I’m good. You know me – I can go from flaccid to erect, and then erect to flaccid again at a moment’s notice.”

 

“Yeah but… don’t you wanna come, though?” Mac was weighing his words – didn’t want to seem too forward. What an absurd thought – _Dennis_ was the one who’d just swallowed his goddamned semen. He couldn’t chicken out now.

 

“Like I said, I’m good, Mac,” he repeated, and put Mac’s dick back into his boxers, before he zipped up his jeans. “You go to bed and sleep, it’s pretty late.” He moved his hands up to gently stroke Mac’s lower abdomen, soothing the skin underneath with his touch. Maybe he did it to ease Mac’s disappointment? Reading him felt like an impossible task, especially in that moment.

 

“Aight, I’mma… uhm…-“ Mac started, but decided mid-sentence to just fucking go for it, and reached down to plant a brief, light kiss on Dennis’ unsuspecting lips. He didn’t back away, but it had surprised him, judging by his expression. Mac accepted that they weren’t going to go any further than this that night. What had happened was enough - it was more than enough, even though he did want more.

 

_Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you._

 

 _All in due time_ , Dennis had said. All he needed was patience, and God would reward him. He smiled and stood up to head into the bathroom. Still sitting in the same position on the floor, Dennis didn’t say anything, but the faint smile on his face reassured Mac that everything was okay.

 

“Night, then,” Mac said as he walked into the bathroom.

 

Brushing his teeth, his mind started reconsidering his choice. What if he didn’t have to be patient? What if Dennis was waiting for him? Maybe God was feeling especially generous today? He tried to finish as fast as he could – all he needed to do was just pee and clean himself. That pathetic piece of him that always kept on hoping had re-emerged to the surface. Maybe if he was really fast, he’d find Dennis in the living room when he opened the door. Maybe he had changed his mind – was ready with his clothes off on the couch and his fingers on his nipples. Perhaps Mac would get to know the rest of him that night – explore his porcelain skin with his own hands. Yes, maybe he would.

 

When he snatched the bathroom door open, the living room was empty. All he could find, was his discarded t-shirt on the floor. Disappointed, he picked it up and walked towards Dennis’ room. He tried to listen through the door, only to soon remember that he’d had it soundproofed. No matter what Dennis was doing, Mac would be oblivious to it, so he went into his own room instead. Once in bed, all he could think about was how the next time they were watching TV, _he_ was going to be the one to lay _his_ head in Dennis’ lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NCIS is shit, so of course Mac and Dennis would love it. 
> 
> I was so tempted to make Dennis leave Mac to his own devices after finally making him “fully, painfully hard”, but I just couldn’t do it. Our baby boy deserves more.
> 
> I didn’t think writing Mac would be this difficult. In the series, he’s always all over the place – switching from one train of thought, to immediately countering it the next moment. Idk how to do that shit on paper.
> 
> I’d love to hear your thoughts if you have any to share. What was Dennis was thinking – why did he turn down a blowjob from Mac? Or what did he do when he returned to his room?


End file.
